


to be yours

by Blueberries (Blueberries_Pen)



Series: SladeRobin Week 2020 [3]
Category: DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Arranged Marriage, Collars, M/M, Plushies, Shota, Size Difference, SladeRobin Week 2020, Wedding, public consummation of marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27231145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueberries_Pen/pseuds/Blueberries
Summary: After his parents are executed and his family exiled for a crime Robin does not understand, Robin is married off to the Marquis of the land, Slade Wilson.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson, Dick Grayson/Wilson Family
Series: SladeRobin Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984930
Comments: 7
Kudos: 60
Collections: SladeRobin Week 2020





	to be yours

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry this is isn't complete, i'm a little burned out and I don't really have the energy to write rn. this is actually an old wip (which is why it's still in past tense and double spaced lol) and I added just a little bit to make it an acceptableish posting length. and I don't even have anything written for the next four days either ;w;

They said he was lucky, to his face.

That Marquis Wilson was a wealthy man, that he would be able to take care of him. Robin wouldn’t even need to worry about bearing him a child, considering the Marquis already had two sons. What a kind, forgiving man he was, taking in the disgraced child of the Graysons, of a bunch of wandering  _ gypsies.  _ The Marquis was more than he deserved.

Behind his back, though… the whispers shifted.

The Marquis was  _ traditional,  _ they said, afraid to call it anything else, even behind closed doors far away the Marquis’s discerning gaze. They looked at Robin with something akin to pity – the kinder ones anyway. The others… they whispered of cruelty, of how Robin would be devoured alive. The boy would have to pay, they said, pay for his family’s ‘sin’ – and the Marquis would give him exactly what he deserved.

But the whispers didn’t matter, not really, for what the Marquis wanted, he got, regardless of what people may whisper. 

And so Robin, quiet and crying and grieving for his dead parents, their bloody deaths still fresh in his mind, was dressed up all in white – a beautiful dress fit for a princess, a crown of white roses, embroidered lace and silk winding around his hands, the softest stockings hugging his legs, and of course with a face freshly powder to hide the tears – and sent down the aisle, to be wed to a man he barely knew. 

-/-

Robin looked at himself, in the mirror. He had never felt more uncomfortable than he did now, all dolled up and in clothes that felt far too heavy, choking. How was he to fly, when it felt like he would drown?  _ Who _ would he fly with? His parents –

He blinked, lip wobbling dangerously. He shouldn’t cry. He was already nine, so close to ten! He wasn’t a baby, so he shouldn’t cry so much. Even if his parents were dead, even if the rest of his family had been exiled, even if he  _ hated  _ this stupid dress, even if he was scared, he had to be strong. There was no one else to rely on. He had to be strong.

“Beautiful!” it was one of the maids that had dressed him. Robin didn’t know her name. She hadn’t spoken a word to him other than to briskly direct him into the clothes and tell him to look that way and this way while she dolled him up.

“Why is it a dress?” He said plaintively, tugging at the skirt.  _ Why am I getting married?  _ He didn’t ask. Because Marquis Wilson said so, had been the answer given, a dozen different ways. And because the dozen times he tried to run away he had, inevitably, been caught sooner or later. 

Robin silently cursed the orange and black masked soldier that had caught him  _ every. Single. Time.  _

If it weren’t for him, Robin would have been able to escape and cross the border and find his way back already.

“Because you’re an omega,” the woman said absently, turning around for a brief moment. Robin tugged sharply at the bit of lace around his neck, hoping to tear it apart. She turned around, and he stilled again.

“Now,” she said sharply, “let go of that…  _ toy.” _

Robin glared, and his grip tightened. It was the one thing they hadn’t managed to take from him. A rather well loved plush elephant, Zitka. His parents had given it to him. “No,” he said simply, clutching it with both hands. If anyone tried to take it, he would  _ bite  _ them. He already had, a lot of times. His teeth were sharp. 

The maid’s nostrils flared. “Boy!” she snarled, advancing, and Robin quickly back-pedalled, but the dress was rather unwieldy, and he ended up tripping. He shut his eyes, expecting the hard cold floor, but instead, ended up merely leaning against something… much softer and warm?

“What’s going on?” A deep voice asked, and a steadying hand landed on his shoulder.

Robin opened his eyes, looking up. And up. Why was this man so tall?! He was as tall as the soldier was. Was everyone in this land this tall? Robin hoped not. It would take him forever to grow that much. 

“M-Marquis!” The woman squeaked.

Robin’s eyes widened. This was who he was to be wed to? For a moment, Robin was fascinated. Then he remembered all the things he had heard about him, and jerked away from him.

Or tried, anyway.

The man’s grip was strong, and tightened painfully as Robin tried to wrench away. Robin took in a sharp breath, but he didn’t cry. He had to be strong. 

“The child… he refuses to let go of  _ that.”  _ The woman gestured irritably _. _

The Marquis arched an eyebrow, looking down, and Robin hugged it closer. He wouldn’t let go, he wouldn’t give up this last piece of home he had. He glared. He  _ would  _ bite!

For some reason, the Marquis’s lips quirked up, into a smile, like he was amused.

“Leave it,” the man said. “He can keep it.”

The woman blinked, but didn’t falter. “Of course, Marquis.”

Robin’s eyes widened. He could keep Zitka? And he didn’t even have to bite anyone for it.

Huh, maybe the Marquis wasn’t the devil incarnate like people liked to whisper after all. He couldn’t be that bad, if he didn’t mind Zitka.

The hand on his shoulder trailed up to his neck, curling around the lace there. Robin tensed, wary, not liking having the hand so close. But all it did was give a sharp tug, and suddenly, the lace wasn’t around his neck anymore, but dangling from the man’s fingers.

“He doesn’t need this,” the Marquis said lazily, dropping it. “Get rid of it.”

Robin’s eyes widened again. He didn’t have to wear that stupid thing that didn’t even let him breathe? ...the Marquis was a surprisingly sensible person. Maybe they could get along?

The woman hesitated. “Yes, Marquis,” she said respectfully. “Would you like to prepare him now?” She asked, readying to leave. 

More preparations?! Hadn’t the past hours of dressing and bathing and powdering been _ enough?  _ If Robin had to go through another minute of that he would cry. Robin gave the man a pleading look.

The Marquis chuckled as he met Robin’s eyes. “No, I don’t intend to.”

For some reason, the woman’s jaw actually dropped. Robin didn’t know why, he was internally celebrating! No more of this stuffy dressing up business. 

“I...yes, Marquis,” she said blankly, probably horrified that she wouldn’t be able to put Robin through any more torture.

The Marquis finally let him go, giving him a pat on the head. “Be sure to behave, boy,” he said as he left, but he didn’t sound serious, and if anything, he sounded  _ amused. _

Robin decided the Marquis couldn’t be that terrible of a person, and that maybe, just  _ maybe,  _ just a teensy tiny bit, Robin liked him.

.

Walking down the aisle was… tricky. Walking with the shoes themselves wasn’t that hard - he got used to it soon enough, but the dress… ugh, the dress got in the way of  _ everything _ . Who decided it had to be so stupidly poofy and have so many layers? There had to be enough cloth in all the ruffles to make a tent out of it! 

Still, he managed somehow, walking down the aisle to the altar there with his hands clasped together.

The Marquis was there, of course, as was the pastor. There were a lot of words exchanged, but Robin didn’t really pay attention to them, only parroting words when he had to, instead looking curiously at all the people that had come. There were so many, there were more than had ever shown up in one of his family’s performances, enough that it even made  _ him  _ shy. Was the Marquis really that important, he wondered, a twinge of anxiety in his stomach.

And if he was, why would he settle for a wife as low-class as  _ Robin? _

“...alpha and omega, husband and wife.”

There was a smattering of applause and Robin shuffled nervously. Was it over yet? 

“You may now collar your omega,” intoned the pastor.

Wait, what?

Robin stared with wide eyes at the leather… thing that Slade had brought out. Gold shimmered, and he could see the symbol of the House of Wilson attached to it. There seemed to be some gold designs engraved into the leather too, but a closer look revealed them to be letters. 

_ Property of Marquis Slade Wilson _

Robin felt his jaw slacken, uncomprehending. His eyes tracked it as it came closer, flickering between it and the Marquis -  _ Slade  _ \- whose single eye was focused on him like prey.

Slade… wanted him to wear  _ that?  _

He had taken off the lace that had encircled his neck just for  _ this? _

He flinched as Slade came too close, and decided it was the perfect time to run away, screw all the people that were surrounding him. He tensed, getting ready to run, but Slade was faster, snapping the collar around him in a flash.

Robin sucked in a breath, and would have run still, if not for Slade’s hand that had an almost bruising grasp of his shoulder. Instead, with a small flush his hands reached up to tug at the new addition.

Slade had collared him. Like he was some  _ animal. _ Like he was something to be paraded around and showed off, like the prized pig in some contest.

Indignant fury bubbled up in him, Robin immediately began plotting his demise. A collar - people just didn’t  _ do  _ that anymore. It was outdated, practically ancient. Even Robin knew that. It was  _ demeaning. _

He tugged at it again, but it wouldn’t open. 

The Marquis’s hands pried his hands away, and Robin scowled up at the taller man. “Take- Urk!” Robin squeaked as he was suddenly lifted up into the man’s arms. Where were they taking him  _ now? _

Not very far, it turned out. The man simply laid him down on the altar like he was going to bed, and Robin was quickly becoming very confused. What were they supposed to be doing now? Was he just supposed to go to sleep here? Were they both going to go to bed here? The altar was big enough for it, and he heard the older kids giggling about it sometimes, how married people were supposed to sleep with each other.

Robin didn’t quite understand what was so interesting about sleeping. Sure dreaming, napping, and cuddling was  _ nice,  _ but the way they talked about it it seemed like they were more talking about going to the moon or something. Robin eyed Slade apprehensively. He was pretty sure if he slept with Slade he’d end up a squashed pancake. The Marquis was, after all, far taller, heavier, and bigger than him. Robin  _ hoped  _ he didn’t kick in his sleep because that would be annoying. 

Not to mention, everyone was _ watching,  _ and it was  _ bright.  _ He didn’t really understand how he was supposed to go to sleep like, when people were chattering up a storm.

He clutched Zitka to himself, apprehensive. 

But Slade only smiled, practically benevolent, and then, suddenly flipped his skirt up. 

Robin squeaked in alarm, embarrassed. The maid hadn’t given him any underwear or pants, told him that omegas didn’t need them. But he still definitely  _ wanted  _ them. A hand flew down from his hold on Zitka, trying to push his skirt back down - there were people around them! Everyone, all those people, they could  _ see - _ but Slade only batted his hand away, and it  _ stung. _

“If you don’t keep your hands on your toy, I’ll take it away,” Slade threatened, voice quiet enough that only Robin heard it.

Robin’s eyes went wide, and he clutched Zitka in alarm.

He took back everything nice he thought about Slade. 

Slade was  _ mean. _

_ “ _ Good boy,” Slade said, seeing how his hands were clenched tightly around Zitka. His hand drops, touching that secret place behind his other parts, and Robin squirms. “Stay still now. You don’t want to lose that, do you?”

Robin shook his head, then reluctantly fell still again.

The Marquis hummed, then said, “You know what this is, boy?”

Robin shook his head again.

“It’s your cunt. I bet you don’t know what it’s to be used for either, do you? It’s made to be  _ fucked,”  _ Slade said, like he should know what that means. Robin’s nose just scrunched up in confusion instead.

“Oh?” Slade asks. “You don’t know what that means either? What a silly omega. Do you want to know?”

Hesitantly, Robin nods. He doesn’t like not knowing things.

Slade smiled. “I was going to prepare you,” he mused, taking away his hand. “But you’ve been a bit of a brat to my staff, and I think you could do with a bit of a lesson. But don’t worry, I  _ will  _ teach you.”

Something presses against his opening - his  _ cunt,  _ as Slade called it - and the murmur of the crowd rises, excited.

He looks down, and his eyes widen. Slade’s…  _ thing  _ is  _ huge.  _ Enormous. And it’s between his thighs, looking like it was as thick as  _ them,  _ and as long as Robin’s entire arm _.  _ He shivers just looking at it, scared but not quite knowing why. And it was...  _ hard.  _ Hard, and hot, and Robin didn’t even know it could do that.

Was there something wrong with Slade’s? Maybe he should let a doctor see it. Was there a doctor in the crowd?

More importantly though, why is it there? You’re not supposed to take it out in front of other people, especially people you didn’t know, his dad had  _ said  _ so.

“This,” Slade says. “Is a  _ cock.”  _ He smirks down at Robin. “And cock, little Robin, is used to  _ fuck  _ omega  _ cunts.” _

Then Slade pulled back just enough to slam between his folds, forcing his way inside -

And Robin  _ screamed. _

_... _ the crowd cheered.

**Author's Note:**

> *crawls under blanket and hides*  
> whispers dramatically: I've done it. I've cursed myself by uploading a wip. expect this to be finished never ;w;  
> *tugs blanket over face and hides*


End file.
